


Wish

by mister_otter



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, HP: EWE
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:02:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058776
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mister_otter/pseuds/mister_otter
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hermione Granger has the power to make wishes come true for all three members of the Malfoy family.  Prompt:  Christmas lights</p>
            </blockquote>





	Wish

**Author's Note:**

> It's a great honor to be invited to write for Advent! Thanks, guys!!  
> And a ton of thanks, love, and holiday wishes to eilonwy, my awesomely talented beta and wonderful friend!

Draco’s boots made a satisfying, wintry _crunch_ as he walked across the dry, frost-covered grass. The night air was cold and clear, the moon over the parkland resembling a half-eaten lemon cake with stars masquerading as the crumbled, sugary bits. 

It should have been a perfect Christmas Eve, but right now it wasn’t—because of the two messages. One that had come and one that had _not._

For perhaps the seventy-fifth time today Draco scanned the dark horizon, looking for an owl that he was beginning to doubt would ever arrive. He fought back a surge of disappointment. Time to give up the sky watch and return to the Manor for what _should_ have been an excellent Christmas Eve meal with his parents, the three of them dining intimately by the fire, lingering long to converse over glasses of his father’s finest wine.

But this afternoon, he’d had yet another row with his mother and the atmosphere in the burgundy dining salon was likely to be as chilly as the air out here on the parkland.

At precisely three p. m. Narcissa had called him into her pretty study with its walls the color of old vellum to show him a tiny note. It was an RSVP for her New Year’s Eve celebration, from the one person with whom Draco did not want to celebrate anything—Astoria Greengrass.

He’d pleaded with his mother not to invite his former girlfriend. But apparently she’d done so anyway, and the invitation had been accepted. 

“I thought you’d want to be aware that Astoria is coming,” his mother had told him. “I know your preference was that I not ask her, but I felt she should be included. After all, she was almost a member of our family at one time.”

Draco had fought hard to control his anger. He hated to be at odds with Narcissa, but the battle over Astoria was fierce and on-going. 

“Mother, in what universe is this a good idea?” he’d asked. But he already knew the answer to that one—the alternate universe in which he put a ring on Astoria’s finger while Narcissa beamed in approval.

Post-war, Draco had been too shell-shocked to do anything other than follow his parents’ wishes for the rebuilding of his life. He’d studied finance at the wizarding university in Geneva (his father’s choice for him) and begun dating Astoria at his mother’s urging. 

Finance he’d actually loved. Astoria, not so much.

Since they were never officially engaged, ending the relationship would have been simple—if his mother had been willing to let the matter drop. But Narcissa was fixated on Astoria as her future daughter-in-law. Long after the break-up, she still fought for her preference, dishing out icy displeasure as only a mother can.

There would never be a reunion with Astoria, because eight months ago Draco had begun dating Hermione Granger—a fact he’d chosen to conceal from his parents until this afternoon. 

Narcissa still didn’t know. But Lucius did, and his reaction had been something Draco would never forget. The shock of it still ran along his nerve endings and set them thrumming.

Following the row with his mother, he’d gone downstairs and found his father alone in the library, hunched over the laptop Draco had given him at his birthday in October, his face lit with a blue glow and a large amount of glee.

“Ah, son—you are just in time! Come here, you must see this!” Lucius beckoned and Draco had crossed the room, leaning over the desk to see what it was that had his father so enthralled. 

On the screen long-haired girls were gyrating, dressed in tall boots and colorful pairs of tiny, satin shorts. The screen caption read, ‘Top of the Pops, 1971—Pan’s People dance to the Jackson 5.’

“It is called _hot pants,”_ Lucius informed him. “By god, Draco—if I had known about this invention when I was seventeen, I believe I might have been tempted to date a few Muggle-born witches! All of my friends would have!”

Draco had had to bite his tongue hard to hold down the laughter. Things had indeed changed in this brave, new, post-war world. It was probably only a matter of time until his father discovered Internet porn. 

With the click of a button, Lucius had paused the dancers in the middle of a particularly fierce booty shake. “Did you want to see me about something?” he’d asked.

“Yes, Father, I did. Mother and I had another argument just now. She’s invited Astoria to our New Year’s Eve gathering. Mother has never accepted the break-up and it’s time she did. I was hoping you might give me a bit of advice on how to handle her.”

Lucius had steepled his fingertips and looked thoughtful. “You are absolutely certain you could never see your way to renewing your relationship with the Greengrass girl?”

“Positively not. Because I…” Draco had paused for a deep breath and then plunged in. “I’m seeing someone else. Things between us have turned serious, and it’s high time I spoke with you about her.”

“I see. How long has this been going on? And who is this mystery lady that you’ve chosen to keep hidden from your mother and me?”

“Several months now. I’ve been hesitant to tell you because… the girl I’m dating is Hermione Granger.”

His father had sat immobile in the desk chair, mouth gaping like a trout whose comfortable pond had unexpectedly begun to boil.

Then a strange, strange thing had happened. The look of shock on Lucius’ face had slowly changed to a grin, one wide enough to rival his reaction to Pan’s People and their shiny hot pants.

“Draco, you clever, clever boy!” he’d exclaimed. “This could be a wise choice indeed! Hermione Granger, brilliant young advocate and celebrated bright star of the wizarding world…”

“Father… you aren’t angry?”

“Angry?” Lucius rose from his seat and walked out from behind his desk to stand before Draco face to face. “Son, your education and financial acumen have pleased me immensely, assuring the continued success of our business enterprises. And now _this_! A relationship with a young woman as highly favored as Miss Granger could cement our place once again as an old and respected family. _That_ is my dearest wish!”

When Draco continued to look bemused, Lucius had added, “It is a new day, Draco, and time to recognize that fact. I take it you are hesitant to share this news with your mother?”

“You know she still has her heart set on Astoria.”

Lucius chuckled. “Just so. But it isn’t Narcissa who will have to sleep with her. In this, you must please yourself. I did, even though my father was against it. “There’s madness in the Black family,” he told me. But in twenty-eight years of marriage, I have never regretted my choice.” 

He clapped Draco on the shoulder. “The Granger girl. Well done, my boy. A very clever move indeed. As for handling your mother…” A shadow crossed Lucius’ face. “There was so little we could control during the war years. I think she is compensating now by attempting to choose your future wife for you. The best advice I can offer is to be patient with her. What she really wishes, if I know Narcissa, is to see you happily settled.” 

They’d left it at that. Draco had retrieved his heavy cloak and gone out under the evening sky to think, alternately awed by his father’s positive reaction and chilled by the thought of his mother’s continued, icy distance. 

If someone had told him at war’s end what his life would be like seven years on, he would have laughed until he’d peed himself. Who would have believed that the end of 2004 would see him in harmony with Lucius, at odds with Narcissa, and so in love with Hermione Granger that he was about to go barking mad with longing for a message from her?

Once more, Draco scanned the dark horizon. The small lake at the center of the parkland was a sheet of black glass where moonlight rippled and bobbled. Suddenly the air above the lake began to come alive with tiny dancing, winking lights.

Draco cocked his head to one side, puzzled but not alarmed. He could hear the rush of heavy wings and suddenly he knew what he was seeing—Hermione’s new owl, Sagacia, flying to him from the place where his love celebrated the holidays amid a large gathering of assorted Granger relatives. From the owl’s powerful talons a long strand of holiday lights dangled, sending their pixie glow toward him through the night.

Sagacia had been his Christmas gift to Hermione, something warm and living to offset the cool beauty of the diamond pendant he’d given her. Of the two, he felt certain he knew which she loved more. 

As Draco stood watching, Sagacia released the lights. They hovered magically in the air as the owl swept on toward him. She landed on his outstretched arm and plucked gently at his sleeve. Draco absentmindedly handed her a treat that he’d stashed in his pocket, just in case, his focus on the small, private light show that was unfolding in the air above his head.

The strand of Christmas lights twisted and twined until a lighted wreath appeared, emerald green and berry red against the night sky. In its center was a single word—silvery-white, startlingly clear: _Wish._

Though there was no one to hear him but Sagacia, Draco spoke aloud. “I wish… Hermione were with me right now. Here in the parkland. Then up in my room, preferably naked.”

Sagacia hooted in what seemed to be owlish derision. Draco had to admit she was right. While Hermione naked would lead to immediate gratification of the best sort, there were far bigger and more lasting things that he’d been wishing for on this Christmas Eve.

“Listen,” he told the owl, “I wish more than anything that your mistress’ gift to me would be the one I asked her for last week.” From her perch on his arm, Sagacia stared at Draco curiously. 

“Hermione and me,” he whispered in explanation. “Together. From now on.”

It didn’t matter that they’d only been seeing each other for a few months. When something was right, it was right, damn it. And Draco knew that the two of them together were _so_ very right—irrefutably, incontrovertibly so.

As if responding to his softly spoken wish, the lights twinkled and danced, shifting until a new word hung suspended in the shivery air. Draco felt his whole life crystallize into this one simple moment. The word was _Yes._

Hermione’s message was the answer for which he’d waited, hoped and dreamed. 

“Yes.” He breathed the word aloud, loving the feel of it on his tongue, the sight of it before him against the deep winter sky. 

As the strand of lights winked out and dropped to the frosty grass, Sagacia shifted restlessly on his arm and extended one leg. Attached to it was a tiny, rolled parchment. 

Draco attempted to open it, but the parchment popped out of his hands, fluttering like a ruby-colored moth and shaping itself into a small pair of lips as it went. He recognized it as a Privateer, designed for sharing personal messages meant only for two.

The small mouth hovered just beside his ear and began to speak in Hermione’s voice. Warm and low, it sent a delicious shiver down his spine. 

“Merry Christmas, Draco. You know by now that my answer to your question is yes, yes, yes—for now, and for always. And you do realize that this will cause a tremendous uproar in our little corner of the universe?”

“Yup,” Draco replied, as if Hermione were standing right in front of him.

Her voice continued, “Then why don’t we _really_ give them something to talk about? Let’s elope for New Year’s Eve. Venice, Paris, or somewhere warm and tropical? Say the word and we’ll make it so. I love you, Draco.”

Grinning like the world’s most lovesick fool, Draco grabbed Hermione’s parchment. Breathing on it to reactivate the spell, he spoke his reply to her: “Fiji. Let’s do it, Hermione. I’ll make the arrangements. Merry Christmas, with all my love.” 

In minutes, Sagacia was airborne, carrying the message that would change several lives at once.

Draco knew his father would be pleased. As for his mother… well, wishes were tricky things sometimes, and Lucius did say that Narcissa wished more than anything to see her son settled. ‘Married’ was the most permanent kind of settled Draco could think of. There was no doubt his mother would come around eventually—Lucius would see to that. As would Hermione herself.

Hermione… Draco grinned, imagining a tropical honeymoon with his bride in no bikini at all, followed by the two of them combining their households in London and starting their lives together. Plus the minor but very satisfying perk of their elopement shocking the hell out of Astoria, Harry Potter, and at least three-quarters of the Weasley clan. 

Scooping up the fallen strand of holiday lights, Draco headed back to the Manor to string them up in his bedroom, a tangible reminder that Christmas wishes could indeed come true.


End file.
